I'll Miss the Way That You Saw Me (Or Maybe the Way I Saw Myself)
by Acadjonne d'la Baie
Summary: Mello has trouble sleeping, and Matt helps him out.
1. I'll Miss The Way That You Saw Me

Mello was afraid that Matt was beginning to suspect something. It wasn't that Mello was necessarily doing anything wrong at the moment, wasn't quite okay enough yet to be able to, but since the explosion, a lot had changed, and he didn't want Matt to know how badly it was really affecting him.

Ever since he'd woken up after the explosion, it was like something snapped. At first, Mello had been in shock, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to, and yet somehow he managed to find Matt. (It wasn't too hard; he'd been keeping tabs on the redhead since he'd been high enough among Mafia ranks to do so.) With an empty mind, wide eyes, and burning skin, Mello had contacted Matt, who for his part had been more helpful than Mello could have ever wished for, especially after he'd left him behind when L died.

Matt had brought Mello to a safe place, taken care of his burns, and made sure Mello was looked after. Within a few days the shock subsided, and after a week or so Mello was joking around with Matt as if he hadn't just put himself at the top of the Mafia's hit list just to keep the police from stopping him. Despite the large scar now covering nearly half his face and disappearing into his shirt, Matt looked at him the same as he always had, and respected the fact that Mello's newest feature seemed to bother him. He even occasionally tried to reassure Mello about the new pattern his flesh had adopted.

The first few weeks were supposed to be the hardest, though, or so Matt had told Mello. At first, he couldn't get a good night's sleep no matter what he did, constantly seeing the fire and the carnage whenever he closed his eyes, but then it had seemed to slow down. Mello could tell Matt had been worried when he'd kick and scream and struggle in his unconsciousness and had eyes so dark he looked like he'd smeared on too much eyeliner, so it was a relief to the both of them when the nightmares had eased up a bit. But now he was having trouble sleeping again.

It wasn't that Mello's nightmares had started coming back, because he was only getting one every few days; maybe once in a week if he was really lucky. He was just getting too deep in his thoughts late at night. Surrounded by darkness and hearing the faint sounds of Matt and whatever he'd be doing in the other room, Mello's thoughts would slip to different places. One night he kept himself awake thinking of all the lives he'd taken, either directly or indirectly. The next morning, Matt had found him staring at the ceiling, not responding to anything he'd said until half the day had gone by and he'd eventually passed out from exhaustion. He'd somehow managed to avoid letting Matt catch him like this again, but his state of mind had since begun taking a toll on him during the day as well. He'd disappear into his thoughts in the middle of simple tasks, he didn't have much of an appetite, and he was a lot more lax and lazy. Mello knew Matt had noticed his behaviour wasn't as it normally was, but he wasn't sure the gamer knew it wasn't actually from trauma or shock anymore. Some small part of Mello hoped that Matt never realized and that he managed to get back to normal soon, while another part hoped Matt clued in before too long. A third part of Mello also wished for peace from the shitfest that his life had become, but he was smart enough to know that he probably wouldn't be getting his release for a long time.

* * *

It was rare for Mello to do anything _other_ than to devour a chocolate bar the second it was handed to him; the fact that Matt had handed him his first fix of chocolate for the day nearly an hour ago and Mello was still nibbling on it was the first red flag in his mind. It had, after all, been the first indicator when Matt figured out about the nightmares, too. Matt also thought back to that day about a week and a half ago where he'd found Mello awake at five in the morning, hidden somewhere behind his eyes and unresponsive to Matt's words. It had scared him a bit, made him worry for his friend; he'd never seen Mello like that before, and a small, selfish part of him wished he wouldn't have to see him like that ever again.

As the day progressed, Matt tried to subtly watch Mello for some sign of what was affecting the blonde. He noticed how sluggish Mello seemed, on top of the not eating. He just nestled himself into the couch and didn't move unless he absolutely needed to, and his chocolate bar had since been left on the floor by his head, mostly uneaten. When it was half past noon and Matt was finally hungry enough to tear himself away from his latest hacking job, he made Mello some hot chocolate and a sandwich, both of which also remained mostly untouched, though he eventually began nibbling on the chocolate bar again. By the evening the sandwich was gone and the chocolate mostly finished, and Matt took notice of how Mello seemed lost in space again. Matt didn't try to break him out of it, figured he wouldn't be able to since he hadn't last time, and resumed his work.

Somehow, by pure fluke or pure luck Matt wasn't sure, he managed to finish what he was doing at a reasonable time; it was barely past ten thirty. He crossed to the other side of the room where Mello had apparently dozed off on the couch, and shook his shoulder lightly (his right shoulder; the unburned one. Matt was aware that Mello wasn't exactly pleased with his scar), waking him.

"Let's get to bed." He said. Mello nodded blearily, remnants of his light sleep still there.

When Mello had called Matt, he'd been unprepared to have anyone staying with him. His ratty little place had only one bed, and his couch was so old and worn it was a bit of a miracle Mello had managed to doze off while laying on it. Matt himself rarely ever slept in his bed, as his job and love of video games made for a rather inexistant sleep cycle, so Mello had taken over the bed for the duration of his stay so far, with Matt crashing in his computer chair whenever his eyelids got too heavy. Tonight though, he decided he'd sleep in the bed with Mello, partly because he wanted to try and keep an eye on the blonde, and partly because he could use some proper rest for once. His chair wasn't exactly comfortable.

Mello seemed surprised as Matt climbed into bed next to him. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice slightly tired-sounding.

"Going to sleep. The chair isn't exactly comfortable." Matt offered. Mello didn't object, simply turned onto his side, facing away from Matt. Matt followed his example, turning so they were back to back and trying to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks.

Mello, for his part, could feel his heart hammering away in his chest. It wasn't the first time he and Matt had shared a bed, they'd done so quite a few times back at Wammy's, but this was different. They were older now, more mature, and up until a few weeks ago they hadn't spoken in years. Mello slightly regretted having left Matt behind at Wammy's back then, had almost gone back on that very night just to get him, but hadn't. He hadn't gone back because he'd been scared of Matt's reaction, scared of the feelings he didn't know how name at the time, scared of being caught and forced to stay.

It took Mello nearly a year after he'd left Wammy's to figure out what it was he felt for Matt. At first he thought he was just fond of his friend; he'd been the only person Mello could stand for most of his life, but he'd eventually realized it went deeper than that. Most people didn't constantly think of their friend years after they'd left, or wondered what it would be like to kiss them or fall asleep next to them every night.

That was another thing. Mello had never really slept beside someone like this other than with Matt. Sure, he'd _slept with_ a lot of people, either for information or to get higher among Mafia ranks; even a couple times just to get his mind of things, but he'd never really slept beside someone _just because_ like this. As kids, he and Matt only shared a bed when one had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep alone again. As kids, it had been completely innocent. As adults, it made his chest hurt and his ears burn.

Mello hadn't realized he'd been slipping into his thoughts again until he felt a finger dig into his back, between his shoulder blades. Mello had noticed Matt took care to try not to touch his scar, but he wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was Matt acknowledging Mello's disdain towards it, maybe it was something else. He tried not to question it too much.

"Mello, I know you're still awake." Matt said. Damn, he was good.

"I'll miss the way that you saw me," Mello blurted, "or maybe the way I saw myself."

There were several different responses Matt could have gone with, but instead he used his brain and went with, "what do you mean?"

"I don't know," Mello admitted, now lying on his back and turning his head to look at Matt. He could just barely make out Matt's confused expression. "Just go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

"It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."

The two remained silent for a while after that. Mello wasn't sure if Matt had fallen asleep or not until he spoke up again.

"Are you alright, Mello?" Mello almost lied to him, but knew there was a good chance Matt would know he wasn't being truthful.

"Not really." Mello admitted. "I guess I've just been thinking too much lately."

Both of them knew it would be pointless for Matt to suggest Mello stop thinking so much. They both grew up in a place that encouraged thinking and overthinking things, so they weren't exactly experienced in turning off their thoughts.

Matt thought back to when he and Mello were younger. When one of them couldn't sleep, they'd shared a bed or talked until they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer. Matt had spent many nights awake just talking, and on several occasions had even lost his voice the next morning because of it, just on the off chance of getting Mello to sleep. He wondered if something similar would work with Mello now.

"I tried to go after you, when you first left." Matt hadn't noticed when Mello had turned back onto his side, but the older man turned to face his red headed counterpart as he spoke softly in the depths of the night. "I had planned every last detail of how I'd leave; from hacking the security system to jumping out the bedroom window and running for the fence. I didn't make it, though. The window was too high; broke my leg and screamed so loud even Roger woke up.

"He wissed up after that. Kept an eye on me and made it clear I wasn't leaving until he let me. I spent the next year and a half trying to convince him to let me go after you, and in my downtime I tried to track you down. I got some clues, not too much. By the time I left I knew you were in the states, but not much more than that."

Mello had his eyes closed, but Matt knew he wasn't asleep quite yet. He smiled a bit to himself before he continued.

"California was just a guess, really. I took a bunch of hacking jobs, some maybe a bit less than legal, and once I had enough cash I closed my eyes and pointed on a map. Brought me straight to Anaheim, and then I got a hit on you in Coronado. It took me a bit too long to realize you weren't there, though.

"I followed the money after that, and if I asked a few questions, no one really gave a shit. I bounced around, and I made money, and left to follow a bigger pay load. Someone kept dropping me hints about you, but I found you among the Mafia. I noticed you climbing the ranks bit by bit, making your way to the top, but I could never zero in on you. I realize now you were probably trying to keep me out of it.

"I almost caught you once, too. Tracked you all the way to the Silicon Valley, but you always were one step ahead of me. And not too long after I almost caught you, my luck ran dry, along with my funds. Couldn't even afford to buy myself any cigarettes if I wanted food."

Mello's lack of response was enough for Matt to know he was either asleep or close to being completely asleep. He wasn't quite ready to stop quite then, though.

"I was on the last of my funds when another job came through. Low level stuff for some bigwig organization. Then another came in once the first was done, and another, and another. Always a different guy, always low-level stuff, but enough to live off of. Eventually I started getting underground work again, and a few different organizations got interested. Decided it'd be best to have me on their payroll.

"I turned them all down because they weren't _your_ organization. I even got a call from your buddy Rod Ross, and I swear, if I'd known you worked with him I probably would've said yes. I'm sorta glad I didn't know, though. Probably wouldn't be here if I had.

"And then not too long after, your stupid ass called me asking for help. I almost hung up on you; almost didn't even answer. It had been so long and only _then_ did you decide to try to contact me. But I didn't say anything, didn't hang up, just listened, and went where you told me to. I didn't think you'd try to blow yourself up. I was so pissed that you got hurt, almost lectured you right there in the car before anything else, but I knew you needed help, so I brought you here. God knows how much I talked and ranted while I wrapped up your burns; I almost expected you to slap me. I don't know if I'm thankful or not that you didn't."

By now, Mello was fast asleep. Matt dared to think he almost looked peaceful. He also knew that whatever he said next, Mello wouldn't hear him. As long as he didn't have any nightmares, nothing would wake him up for at least another four hours.

"I should probably be mad at you for everything. For leaving, and for trying to steer me in the wrong direction. Hell, I should be _furious_ , but I'm not. I haven't completely forgiven you either, but I'm getting there, because _damn,_ Mello, you make my heart hurt. Just thinking about how you're here, safe and sound, fills my chest with fucking butterflies. I hate it and love it in the same way I both hate and love you, and _God_ , the only reason I can say this at all is because _you can't fucking hear me, because I'm that scared._ I've never been scared of you before; this is a new think for me, and even though I'm technically getting this off my chest I still feel like I'm going crazy and every possibly-existing diety there is that I don't have to say this to your face right now." Only the sound of Mello's even breathing met Matt's ears once his voice died down. With burning ears and a courage he didn't know he'd had, he mustered up, "I love you, Mello, you fucking idiot."

Only silence met his ears, and Matt didn't know if it made him feel better or worse.


	2. But I Came Back To You Broken

When Mello was very young, he could have slept through anything. It amazed his parents to no end how much he could sleep through, having dozed off during thunder storms, a car crash a few doors down, and even a kitchen fire with four fire alarms going off.

After Mello's parents died and he went to Wammy's, he would stay awake for as long as he could and eventually pass out from exhaustion, only waking up when he was sufficiently rested. No one could wake him up, and no amount of racket would rouse him, much to the dismay of the adults.

Eventually, Mello got used to being at Wammy's and got back a normal sleeping pattern; by then he was rooming with Matt, who was prone to having nightmares. It would take Heaven and Earth for Matt to wake Mello on these occasions, but eventually he found a way, and Mello would help him out when he couldn't fall asleep again. Likewise, on the rare occasions Mello had nightmares, Matt would lull him to sleep by telling him stories or sweet nothings, talking all night even after Mello was asleep and burning out his voice for the next day or so.

After Mello left Wammy's, though, he joined the Mafia, and his deep level of sleep became an issue. He eventually trained himself to wake up at the slightest noise, which was both a good idea and a bad one. Good because if someone tried to storm the base he could be awake and alert, but bad because if anyone tried to betray the organization with Mello nearby he'd hear their plans and expose them.

Matt didn't know about Mello's new talent, since he'd never brought it up or told him. When Matt had told him about his life after Mello left, it had lulled Mello to sleep, just like old times, but he could still hear every word Matt said. He found it slightly comforting to hear the other man's voice.

"I should probably be mad at you for everything. For leaving, and for trying to steer me in the wrong direction. Hell, I should be _furious_ , but I'm not. I haven't completely forgiven you either, but I'm getting there, because _damn_ , Mello, you make my heart hurt," he was saying. Mello wasn't sure where Matt was going with this; a moment ago he'd been talking about when Mello called him after blowing up his base. He continued on, though Mello was only half tuned-into it, until finally there was a pause. Mello wasn't sure how long it lasted until he finally heard Matt's voice again.

"I love you, Mello, you fucking idiot."

Part of his brain screamed at Mello to wake up, that he needed to answer Matt, tell him he felt the same. The more dominant part of Mello told him he'd simply imagined it, that it was all a dream, and he finally agreed, shifting closer to his friend before entering a deeper part of his rest.

For the first time in weeks, Mello had a full night's rest.

* * *

After the first night, Matt continued to tell Mello stories in order to get him to fall asleep, always telling him something new. One night, he told Mello about his life before Wammy's. On another occasion, he went on about some guy who'd asked him to do a job for him, only to refuse to pay him because Matt was two minutes late in contacting him, even though the guy had been on the phone the first time Matt tried to call. He'd ended up skimming money from the guy's account, and that had been that.

Over the next few weeks, the routine remained the same. Settle in around ten thirty or so, Matt would go on for about half an hour, and then silence. For anywhere between five and fifteen minutes, the only sound would be the two men breathing, until Matt's voice would puncture the silence, gaining confidence each and every time.

"I love you, Mello, you fucking idiot."

To Mello's tired brain, he couldn't decipher it's meaning. Was it a dream? Was it real? Could Matt really feel the same? But come morning, Mello would usually have forgotten about it, and Matt never made any indication of wanting to tell him anything.

About two weeks after their new routine began, Matt was playing a video game while Mello was destroying past connections on Matt's laptop. He'd been at it for a while, and about to destroy yet another useless contact when the laptop screen flashed. All white, with a large gothic N in the middle, Mello was sure Near was going to begin talking any moment. He braced himself, prepared to yell, fight, be belligerent and rude, but after five seconds the screen popped open like an envelope and revealed an email addressed to Matt.

 _Matt,_

 _Mello has disappeared, and I would like to enlist your help in finding him. I believe it would be easier to get Mello to agree to help if Matt is already working with me, and together the three of us may be able to defeat Kira._

 _Should Matt agree to help, I can send along Mello's last known location and multiple resources you may have need of._

 _I hope this finds Matt well, and please respond soon. Time is of the essence._

 _-Near_

Mello scowled at the text, and waved Matt over. He read it, and shook his head.

"Alright, so here's what we're gonna-"

"No," Mello cut Matt off. He had a good idea where this conversation was going.

"Mello-"

"No."

"But-"

"No." Mello was prone to stubborn streaks, especially when it came to Near.

"Mello, you fucking idiot, would you mind shutting up and listening to me for two seconds?" Mello wasn't sure if it was the wording or the tone (Matt was normally pretty calm, and Mello was 98% sure his cigarettes actually had weed instead of nicotine, so his snapping out words like that was new), but Mello shut right up and listened. Matt took his silence as a cue to continue. "As I was saying, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna delete that email since you're the one on the computer right now, and we're going to ignore Near from here on out. I have no intentions of working with him, which he well knows, and that's even without throwing you into the mix."

It seemed like a good plan, and Mello did as told. For the rest of the day, it was forgotten, and both Matt and Mello continued to go about their tasks.

That night, Matt lulled Mello with a story about Near right after he'd left Wammy's. There was less of a pause this time before the familiar phrase was repeated.

"I love you, Mello, you fucking idiot."

* * *

When Mello's birthday rolled around in mid December, it brought with it memories of his parents.

The Keehl parents had been gone just over sixteen years, taken out by police while at a Civil Rights rally. They'd been devoted Christians, yes, but they'd also believing in rights and equality to all. Ada Keehl, Mello's mother, had been the main breadwinner, working in the corporate department of one of Russia's biggest banks, while his father Max had worked at home, taking care of him.

It wasn't the first time they'd left Mello with a friend to go protest, though it had been their last. Mello's dad had been shot while trying to protect a gay man from police officers, and his mother had been injured and killed by another officer using excessive force.

Mello had been four years old, barely old enough to understand death, though his parents' friends had tried to put it in simple terms. It wasn't until the man they'd saved came to talk to him that he finally clued in they weren't coming back. Shortly after his talk with the man he'd been sent to Wammy's, and he'd lost contact with his homeland quite quickly.

" _I wanted to tell you that your parents were very brave,_ " the man they'd saved had told Mello, " _and I hope someday someone can say that about you as well. I want you to make a promise, if not to me than to them._ "

"I'll never judge anyone based on any factors other than how they act." He murmured. He'd kept that promise for so long, never batting an eye at anyone he saw. His hatred of Near wasn't based on judgement but resentment, and anyone he silently judged were usually huge dickheads beforehand.

Mello realized, although somewhat belatedly, that he and Matt had never discussed anything even remotely close to sexuality. Granted, Mello was sixteen and long gone by the time he realized how much he truly cared for Matt, and he imagined Matt hadn't been too far behind him in realizing his preferences as well.

While Matt had never been shy about things when Mello was involved, he could see why the other man might be a bit more hesitant to speak about his sexuality; assuming he wasn't straight. Mello had always been religious when he was younger, though not so much now. He still wore his rosary, and sometimes quoted or corrected scripture if the situation arose, but he hadn't prayed or attended mass in years.

Matt, sitting on the other end of the couch, noticed how Mello seemed lost in thought. He looked like he was about to say something before Mello beat him to the punch.

"What'syoursexuality?" He blurted. Matt blinked slowly.

"W-what?"

"What's your sexuality?" Mello repeated, slower this time.

"I-I'm bi..." Matt trailed off. He squirmed a bit. "A-and you..?"

"I'm gay." Matt nodded slowly.

"W-what brought this on?" Matt asked. Mello swallowed the lump in his throat, and tried to find a proper way to word his next statement.

"I just- You- Aah, fuck it." Mello finally decided. "I love you, Matt, you fucking idiot."

There was something oddly satisfying about repeating Matt's words back to him, even if the other hadn't been aware he'd heard them, as evidence by Matt's gaping fish impression, before his brain finally caught up.

"I, uh, m-me too."

They fell silent after that, letting their confessions set in. Finally, after a few minutes, Matt's hand found it's way around Mello's, and he tugged it gently.

"C-can I k-kiss you?" He blushed. Mello nodded, not trusting his voice.

Sitting in Matt's ratty apartment, hand in hand and connected at the lips, Mello felt his life might finally have meant something, Kira and L be damned.


End file.
